


Pain and Pleasure

by SoftObsidian74



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, F/F, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 17:30:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1519202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoftObsidian74/pseuds/SoftObsidian74
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione learns that being Bellatrix's slave isn't completely horrible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pain and Pleasure

“Does baby want some dinner?” Bellatrix asked in that familiar mocking tone.

At twenty years of age, Hermione was hardly a baby, but that didn’t stop her from leaning forward to accept the spoon of leftover caviar being held just out of her mouth’s reach.

“Yes,” Hermione conceded softly, licking her dry, cracked lips.

Gone were the days when she would refuse such an offer out of pride. Many long months, and her Mistress, had taught her that things like shame and dignity were useless to her now.

Bellatrix smiled wide and wild. Hermione was glad to see it. When her Mistress smiled like that, it usually meant she’d be rewarded with more pleasure and less pain.

Usually.

“Such a pretty baby,” Bellatrix cooed, swooping in for a kiss. Tender at first, it ended roughly when the older woman bit Hermione’s bottom lip, holding on until blood trickled down her chin.

Hermione barely winced. That sort of pain wasn’t so bad—she had even grown to like it.

Just a little.

Bellatrix threw her head back, cackling and licking her lips like they were covered in chocolate. She began to pet Hermione as she lifted the spoon to feed her.

Hermione exhaled; it felt good to be fed and touched. Her thoughts dwelled on the caviar. She swirled it around her tongue, savoring it. Her next meal would depend on her Mistress’ mood.

The spoon was suddenly snatched out of her mouth and thrown across the room. Hermione wasn’t surprised to see Bellatrix glaring at her with crazed eyes. It was always this way; up and down, sweet and cruel.

“You filthy Mudblood!” she hissed, her hand sliding from Hermione’s hair to her breast to pinch, squeeze, and caress.

Hermione moaned unabashedly.

“You’re lucky; I could’ve fed you to Fenrir. He enjoyed eating your little blood-traitor boyfriend. But I saved you!” Bellatrix proclaimed triumphantly. “I’m your God now, or should I say, Goddess. Remember that, Mudblood!”

How could Hermione ever forget?

All the things her Mistress said reminded her; her words were meant to humiliate, inspire fear, and despair. But those emotions had died many moons ago.

The only two feelings that were of any consequence to her now were pain and pleasure.

So when her Mistress licked and bit her earlobe, purring, “Does baby want to stay with me tonight?” Hermione smiled.

Tonight it would be pleasure.


End file.
